13| "DISASTER AND DIATRIBES"

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thirteen disaster and diatribes

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thirteen disaster and diatribes

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[Y/N] WAS INCREDIBLY grateful that she turned up early to give her final lesson of the year. She knew the time would come eventually where McGonagall would take her revenge, and clearly today was that day.

    The classroom was upside down. Not idiomatically. The desks and chairs were quite literally stuck to the ceiling.

    With a sigh and an amused chuckle, [y/n] got set to work in restoring order in her classroom.

By the time nine o'clock rolled around, a small class of third-years was settled. Parchment and quills at the ready, they sat waiting patiently for any last minute notes to take down in preparation for their exams

    They were incredibly eager at first, taking turns to walk up to the chalkboard and add to the growing list of essential electrical items that Muggles could not survive without.

Twenty minutes in, however, it was very clear that they had becomd totally uninterested. [y/n]'s third-years were usually enthusiastic about the content of her Muggle Studies lessons, but over the last few weeks they seemed to be growing bored. She supposed the whole of the school felt that way now that it was the beginning of June, which meant it was the middle of exams season, so engaging her minimal number of pupils in revising twentieth-century Muggle inventions wasn't the easiest.

    'So as you can see, the Muggles' consumption of electricity lead to a sh— Miss Granger, are you quite all right?'

    'Sorry, Professor,' Hermione muttered, stifling a yawn as she removed her head from her hand and retrieved her quill to take down the notes from the board.

    'If you need to take a break, that's OK,' [y/n] said softly. 'I know you'll understand everything and you seem quite tired.'

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